Beautiful
by 13 o'clock Erik
Summary: Erik is beautiful. Just ask Christine.
1. Into the Lair

_**Erik is beautiful… Just ask Christine.**_

&$&

Everything was very quiet in the Lair. Deathly quiet. Too quiet for Christine's liking. Was she too late? Was she too early? Would she walk in to find him dead? Would she find his body? Did he still live? Or would he kill himself right in front of her? Christine found she had more questions than answers. She pushed aside the rubble left over from the mob's angry and destructive raid of her Maestro's home.

She knelt to pick up a thick, leather-bound manuscript. It was his magnum opus; Don Juan Triumphant. In her mind, she relived the last act of the play. Though it was unfinished, that last scene would follow her to her grave. Her small fingers traced over the hastily scrawled blood-red notes. The writing was childish; it was not at all cohesive to the man it belonged to. She held the papers to her chest and continued on through the insanity that was Erik's destroyed home.

"Erik?" she called out.

There was no answer. Of course there was no answer. The man was dead, dying, or gone. Why should he stay here anyway? Regardless, she called out again.

"Erik? I am home! Are you here?!"

Christine made her way into the sitting room. A figure seated in a winged armchair by the fire made her suck in a startled breath. She tiptoed over, a fire was still crackling in the stone fireplace. She lay a hesitant hand on his forearm; she shook him gently.

"Erik?"

At first she thought he was dead. He did not respond to her first, second, or even third attempt to wake him. Each time she tried to rouse him, her voice became more and more hysterical. Finally, on her fourth attempt; tired, bleary eyes cracked open to see what the fuss was about.

"Christine…?" her maestro murmured. "What…?"

It became quite clear to her very quickly that he didn't know where he was or what he was doing there. His already malformed face twisted into confusion.

"Christine? What are you doing here? What am _I_ doing here?" he asked in astonishment.

&$&

To awaken to such a face as hers was not a bad thing at all. Unfortunately the first thing that hit him when he opened his eyes was not her beauty, but the pain radiating from his stomach outward. He didn't know how long he had been down there in the dark. The fire kept on because it was mostly run by gas. _His_ invention, by the by… And a damn good one too! What _was_ she doing here? It can't have only been yesterday that she left. Surely not! He'd lost time before, but it seemed like a lot more than one day had passed.

"Erik, how long have you been down here?"

"How long have you been gone?"

"Erik…"

"Christine I…I don't understand…"

His tired eyes saw hers fill with tears.

"Maestro, I am here to stay with you. Forever. I told you I would come back." She whispered.

"If you stay… just a bit longer. If you stay you can fulfil your promise and then go back to your… your fiancée."

"I'm not going back to Raoul, Maestro. When did you last eat?" she asked, touching his cool cheek.

"N-No!" he exclaimed, recoiling from her touch. "It's a trick! You're just… this is just my imagination!"

He got up and started to move away from her but he stumbled and began to fall. Christine caught him before he fell and together they sank to the floor. Mask gone and his dignity along with it, Erik gave in to tears. Christine was absolutely astonished; woman could do so much to man to destroy him.

"Erik, I'm real. I'm here. I'm with you!"

"No, no, no! Christine is gone! Oh god..!"

The slender brunette woman shook him soundly in the hopes of bringing him back from the brink of hysteria. His ravings stopped after a few moments and he went completely limp. His body was wracked with silent sobs.

"I love you." she murmured.

Erik let out a tortured moan.

"Christine… oh Christine, you're killing me."

The pain in his chest was not from any medical disorder he was familiar with. Every word she spoke make his heart swell more until the pain was almost unbearable and he felt he was dying.

"I had to come back, Erik." she continued. "I had to come back, to hold you in my arms again. I won't go back to Raoul. I belong here with you."

"You're killing me…" he whispered against her breast.

She stroked his sparse hair.

"I'm not going to leave you. No matter what you say. I'm not going to leave you."

He shuddered, hot tears falling from his cheeks and soaking her bodice.

"I want… I want to believe that, Christine… More than anything."

"Believe it, I'm not going anywhere."

And then she kissed him. She kissed him for the second time. She kissed him again and again until he believed her and promised to _try_.


	2. In the Mirror

Ergh…. Here tis…

&$#$&

Quietly lying beside her husband, Christine listened to the night. There was no sound but for his breathing and the occasional animal outside. She rolled onto her side, snuggling into his narrow chest and listening to his heart beat steadily. They'd been through so much in the past few months… She'd nearly lost him again a few times. This time he was hers for good. No one was going to be able to part them.

As she looked at him, a moonlight dancing over the distorted features of his right cheek, it seemed to be beyond her why she had run from him in the first place. She had grown accustomed to the scars, she had grown to love them because they were a part of him. A part of the man she loved.

She gently traced the scars with her forefinger, memorizing them again like she had memorized the scars on his back. For a few moments it was silent, until Erik's subconscious realized his face was being touched, then he flinched away and slowly awakened. His mismatched eyes slowly focussed on her. The look he gave her was one of confusion.

"Christine? What's the matter? Were you trying to wake me up? Is something wrong?" he asked, sitting up and fixing her with a look of complete confusion.

" No, I-I…" Christine was at a loss as to what to say. "I was just… thinking about how lucky I am to have you."

Erik frowned, rubbing a hand over his face as he peered at her sleepily.

"No need to tease me, Christine…"

"I was not teasing, Erik." she said, somewhat hurt at what he thought of her actions.

He raised his good eyebrow, eyes gazing at her appraisingly.

"It is I who am lucky to have _you_, Christine." he murmured, taking her hands in his and pressing kisses to her palms. "I'll never forget that it was _you_ who rescued a monster from his personal hell."

Christine sighed exasperatedly and tugged her hands gently from his.

"You aren't a monster, Erik! I wish you wouldn't say such things!" she exclaimed.

Erik blinked at her, then turned his face away, hiding once again in the shadows.

"It's true though…" he whispered. "This face… this face has made me separate from the human race. I owe you everything for bringing me back to the light."

Christine slipped out of bed and stood in front of her mirror. She held her hand out to Erik, eyes imploring. He gave her a confused look, but came to her side.

"The hell you lived in was self-imposed, Erik. I only showed you that you could love and be loved in turn."

Erik blinked at her, seemingly unable to form any coherent thought. He felt what she had just said was in some way an insult, but he couldn't figure out which part of it was the insulting one. She pulled his arms around her and together they stared into the mirror.

"What do you see?" she asked softly, leaning her head back against his chest.

He gazed into the mirror. His face was unmasked and he wanted nothing more than to look away. What did he see?

"I see an Angel and a Daemon. I see a lovely dark haired Angel in the arms of a deformed monster."

"You're wrong." She said bluntly. "Look past the scars, Erik. I see them every day and I know that behind them is the man I love."

"How can you? How can you love me? How can you look upon my face day in and day out?"

She turned around and buried her face in his shoulder; he smelled good. Like bow rosin and his cologne with a hint of mint hiding behind it all. Christine felt one of his hands tangle in her long dark hair. Little did she know that he himself was thinking that _she_ was the one who smelled heavenly. He kissed her forehead.

"Can we go back to bed now?" he asked quietly.

"Not until you look in that mirror and see how beautiful you really are."

Erik couldn't help but scoff. She stiffened against him in anger; she seized him by the collar and pulled his face close to hers. Breathing heavily she told him exactly what had been running through her mind.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. I didn't know _why_ you wore the mask, but it seemed to fit with you. That hat and cloak you wore. And the way your suit fit you…" she shivered at the memory, "I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life."

He opened him mouth as if to speak and she silenced him with a kiss.

"You are beautiful, Erik."

The former Phantom did not speak; instead he folded his body around hers, holding her tightly to him. Erik buried his face in her neck.

"Can't you see? Can't you see that you are beautiful?" Christine implored.

She felt his lips move against her throat.

"Yes. Through your eyes I can."

&$&


End file.
